Dedicated to northbynorth because I am addicted to her story, Saving Elliot! Please, please go and read it!
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Chapter 4 : Panic
A week. It’s been a week. I’ve settled in pretty well… I think. I made friends with everyone in the suite. Except for Mark. That jackass still wouldn’t talk to me. I mean, what the hell did I do to him? But tomorrow, thankfully, I would be able to get out of this hell-hole. It’s city day. I never really liked New York, but this time, I’m all for it. I need a break from the guys. I stuffed my backpack, with my wallet, cell phone, and mom’s credit card in it, and my guy-to-girl things. Then I heard Paul opening the door, so I hastily put my backpack under my bed; hopefully they don’t notice.
“…Dude, what were you thinking?” Paul said, as he burst through the door. Mark, Anthony, and Derek on his tail.
“I told you, I don’t dig sports!” Anthony answered back. “So my mom gave the school a letter to excuse me.”
“Hey, Frank,” Derek said, acknowledging me. “What did you choose for sport?”
“Swimming. And you?”
“I took up Lacrosse. So you chose the same sport as Mark, huh? Well, Pauly here took football.” Derek looked over to Paul. Paul shrugged. “Again. And Anthony here was able to skip out.”
“I’m just lucky my mom likes me,” Anthony said, with and innocent look on his face.
“Your mom doesn’t like you, you idiot. She hates your father, and loves to annoy him. Just like you not doing a sport does,” Paul told him in a matter-of-factly voice.
“Touché.” It was nearing midnight, and we had to be at the bus stop by nine if we wanted to catch the free shuttle to Times Square.
“Hey, guys, I’m going to crash. Gotta be up early tomorrow,” I announced.
“Oh, yeah. I almost forgot! You should come with us. You told us yesterday that city day would be the first time you’ve ever been to New York. We’ll show you around.” Anthony sounded genuinely excited. And I really couldn’t let him down. And I needed supplies, like girl supplies. I would have to ditch them later on.
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll go.”
“Great!” Now Paul sounded happy too. “Let’s go to bed. We’re up early tomorrow, and it’s almost one in the morning. ‘Night, people!”
The following day, I stood outside next the bus stop, while the guys talked around me. I found it nice that they invited me, but I was actually hoping I would be able to have some me time. And this isn’t the first time I’m in New York. Mom’s a model, which meant that when I was younger, I was always dragged by her here for photo shoots. The bus rolled in. Its doors opened up, and we all walked in. It looked exactly like the regular buses in New York, so I don’t get why they call it the ‘Free Shuttle’ here at Connor Stanley. I took a seat at one of the front seats; I wanted to get out first. Hopefully I could tell them I lost them in a crowd or something. No luck. Anthony sat next to me. And before I could get up to move, the bus started moving.
“See that?” He said, several minutes into the ride, pointing outside the window. “That’s ground zero.”
The bus stopped soon after, and again, I was dragged by them into a diner.
“Lunch time!” Shouted Paul happily, as we all walked inside and sat at a huge, round table.
Orders went all around, and I took my regular cheeseburger that I’ve been having here since I could remember. But of course, I had to fake that I’ve never been here before. So looking at the menu it is. Even though I memorize it by heart. A couple of minutes later and I’m sinking my teeth into the best cheeseburger within a thousand mile radius.
“How do you like your cheeseburger Frank?” Asked Derek.
“It’s great Derek, thanks.” He smiled, obviously pleased with himself that he ‘introduced’ me to the diner. Just then, as I was mid-bite, a perfect picture of a girl walked through the doors towards us. She was everything almost every girl in America wanted to be. Tall, Blonde, and Blue-Eyed. She looks a lot like mom, and for a second there, I thought she was. She walked over to our table, and smiled at us. She has a perfect set of straight, white teeth.
“Hey, Kiana,” All the boys said, except for Mark.
“Hey Babe,” ‘Kiana’ said, directing it to Mark. I can’t believe that she ignored everyone who greeted her, and instead went on over to the one who didn’t.
“Hey Kiana,” Mark said, as he pushed back his chair. Kiana trotted over and sat down on his lap, careful that the mini-skirt (regardless of the cold temperature outside) covered most of what lower-clothing was supposed to. She sat facing Mark, who put his arms around her waist, and started to make-out with her. In public. In a diner. Classy.
“That’s Kiana,” Paul said helpfully from my left. He must’ve seen my confused face. “Mark’s girlfriend. She goes to some preppy school in the city. Some elite school for bitches I think.”
“Do they always do that?” I asked.
“Well, at least today they aren’t groping each other,” Anthony said from my right. I whipped my head towards him.
“You mean, they normally do this, and grope each other in public?”
“Yeah, I mean, they only see each other every week. So I kind of understand that,” Paul defended. But then he saw Anthony’s face. “But it’s still no excuse.” He quickly added. I, on the other hand, am disgusted, and lost my appetite.
“I’ve got to go, guys. I wanna see I little more of New York. I’ll see you guys later,” I said. And before they could say anything else, I slammed my half-eaten burger down, grabbed my bag, and rushed out the door. Thank God I paid earlier.
At twelve noon, I’m walking through the mall, bags in hand. My hair was down, and I just got out from the salon. I had it permanently dyed dark brown. No way I’m switching back. The baggy jeans that ‘Frank’ wore is now stuffed in my backpack, and replaced with my favorite straight-cut dark denim jeans. My shirt was now one of the purple checkered button downs I normally wore, before I was stuck into Connor Stanley by mom and dad. Who, by the way, still hadn’t called me, even though they said they would. Surprise, surprise. My stomach grumbled. I haven’t eaten since earlier today with the guys. I need food. Fast.
When I walked into the food court, I hit someone. Hard. My bags flew everywhere, scattering almost all my things.
“Oh, God! I’m so sorry!” Said a British voice. The owner of the voice crouched down, and helped me stuff my newly bought tee’s into one of the random bags.
“Oh no, I’m sorry. I bumped into you!” I insisted. I raised my head, and at the same time, he did too. The first thing I saw was his eyes. So grey and so familiar. We stayed like that for what seemed like hours, as I started to recognize the face. Oh boy. Panic.
YOU ARE READING
Double Identity
Teen Fiction“That was marvelous!” He said. “Great job, Frank. Or, should I say, Franchesca?” I took a deep breath. A very, very deep breath. “Oh my God,” Was the most intelligent thing I could say. “’Oh my God’ is correct. How long have you been lying to us?” “...
